


hellboy

by asterousdisaster



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, Marvel
Genre: Aged Up, Alternate Universe, F/M, Ghost Rider! Richie Tozier, I channelled all my crackhead energy into this, M/M, Mechanic! Eddie Kaspbrak, Percy Jackson style chapter titles, Possession, Slow Burn, Some Fluff, Some angst, because yeah, by that I mean four chapters, superhero/vigilante au, they're in college, this is highkey a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-02 05:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterousdisaster/pseuds/asterousdisaster
Summary: Richie becoming a ghost rider is an accident. Though, if getting murdered by Henry Bowers in the junkyard means he’ll get superpowers from the clown spirit that apparated into his living room, he sure as hell doesn’t regret anything.That’s a lie. Getting shot fucking hurts.-a superhero au where richie navigates his superhero origin story with eddie kaspbrak the mechanic as his unknowing sidekick/enabler





	hellboy

**Author's Note:**

> *quietly ignores my incomplete fics from two other fandoms ha oops*
> 
> I wasn't gonna publish this today but it's Halloween and this has some form of possession. Does it count as spooky? Not really but- yeah 
> 
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

Richie becoming a ghost rider is an accident. Though, if getting murdered by Henry Bowers in the junkyard means he’ll get superpowers, he sure as hell doesn’t regret anything.

That’s a lie. Getting shot fucking hurts.

He can’t remember how he ended up in the junkyard – only how he may have accidentally-on-purpose poured his popcorn all over Bowers halfway through a boring movie. As soon as Bowers fixes those psychopathic eyes on him, Richie runs.

Henry doesn’t scare him (much). Yeah, the guy’s crazy but he’s not the fastest person out there. He’d have to catch Richie first before he could do any harm. That’s before Richie realises that Bowers has a gun.

And he doesn’t know where the genius idea to dive into a random car came from but he scrambles into his improvised hiding spot and prays Bowers gets lazy and gives up. Next thing he knows, his side explodes in agony and he’s been shot. Multiple times.

He’s pretty sure he’s dead – very few can survive this much pain and blood loss. Fan-fucking-tastic. Richie Tozier: murdered by high school nemesis due to popcorn shenanigans in town junkyard. Not exactly what he was expecting in his obituary.

There’s a strange sense of detachment as he assesses the damage, as though his soul no longer belongs in this plane of existence and Richie can’t tell if the numbness is from the shock or pain.

He almost feels bad for bleeding out in the worn leather car seats because, yeah, it’s in the junkyard but it’s a pretty sweet car. If Richie knew anything about mechanics or cars or whatever, he’d want to fix this one up.

It’s a 1969 Dodge Charger R/T (ha! 69) which honestly doesn’t mean much to him except that there are about 320 left and you can auction them off on eBay for about 46,000 dollars and people would actually buy it – even if it looked like absolute garbage.

And it’s slightly weird that he’s having all these thoughts when he’s about to die for real but Richie suspects he must have passed out at some point because there’s no way he could’ve missed this.

One second, there’s blood everywhere and everything kinda hurts and the next, his head bursts into flames.

Which is when he starts to really panic because it doesn’t even hurt. Nothing hurts anymore and his head is on FIRE. Maybe he’s hallucinating. Maybe this is hell.

A quick glance in the rear-view mirror and Richie discovers that his face is a skeleton or there’s a skeleton helmet thing over his face and everything is burning – even the car.

Richie’s fine though.

There’s nothing on WikiHow for: ‘How to escape psychopath when you and everything around you is on fire’ so Richie does the natural thing. He clambers into the driver’s seat, grabs the wheel and drives.

He almost runs Henry Bowers over which is a pretty good bonus.

* * *

Somehow Richie makes it home in his brand new flaming car without any odd looks (Derry is a crazy town – people are strangely oblivious) and that’s when he really starts freaking out.

It’s been established that he’s not dead because everything looks normal: the fire died when he parked and his face is back in one non-skeletal piece, clunky glasses and all (which is a relief cos those things are expensive). You’d think that hell would be more…evil looking.

There must be some reasonable explanation. The fire and all that shit was a hallucination. He’d been lucky enough to find a car that actually worked. There was no blood or wounds or anything so he mustn’t have gotten shot though the holes in his shirt says otherwise but he’ll ignore that for now. And he ran Henry Bowers over with said car.

Sweet.

He’s just about convinced himself that everything is just a crazy but happy coincidence when the clown appears.

Unabashedly, Richie screams. He hates werewolves but clowns are almost worse, especially when it just materialised in his living room. Shit, maybe Richie _is_ in hell.

The clown towers over him by about two feet, his yellow eyes staring blankly ahead with a grin that stretches across his entire face. And despite a clown’s typical role, it’s makeup only serves to look more sinister.

This is _not_ normal. And Richie is starting to wish he had died in that junkyard.

The clown shudders as though its limbs are just remembering how to work and its eyes flicker before fixing themselves on Richie and Richie throws himself back.

“Hiya Richie!”

“What the fuck are you?” Richie yells, grabbing the nearest thing he can find which is…a stapler. Undeterred by the makeshift weapon, he flicks it open and clicks it a couple of times waving it around and looking as threatening as possible.

Weirdly, the clown’s painted lips turn down and…is the crazy hallucination pouting? Dear God, this is almost more terrifying than the smile.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the clown starts, sounding miserable, “I’m dead.”

“You- I- wait.” Richie splutters for a moment, “What the fuck?”

And so, under the threat of a stapler that can’t injure the dead, the stupid dumbass terrifying possibly undead/spirit clown thing explains.

Turns out, the car he conveniently chose to hide in harboured a spirit and now that spirit inhabits _him_. The spirit’s name is Robert Gray, which is, in all honesty, the dumbest name Richie had ever heard for a spirit somehow tied to a car and fire but the dude looks terrifying so he’s not about to tell him that.

There’s a moment of silence as Richie allows the information to sink in.

“So can I call you Bob?” Richie ignores the way Bob (Robert, whatever) starts to snarl slightly and ploughs on, “And does this mean I have powers? Or what was the whole immunity to fire thing about just now?”

The clown nods almost impatiently and goes on to explain some of the powers but Richie tunes out pretty quick. The only things that really register are super strength and the ability to transform into a demonic-looking-skeleton-flaming being.

“Fuck yeah,” Richie whispers, interrupting the clown’s spiel, “I have superpowers.”

* * *

Richie’s almost instantly disappointed though because when he goes back out to check on the car, it’s lost its hell-fuelled upgrade and returns to being a piece of shit.

And there’s no way he’s going to drive around in something that looks like it could fall apart any second. So, despite Bob’s protests, Richie decides to take it to the only auto body shop in Derry, in-the-middle-of-buttfuck-nowhere, Maine.

He’s never actually been there before. Not just because it’s on the outskirts of Derry, but also because Richie’s never owned a car before. In a tiny town like Derry, there’s little need for one and most people cycle or walk. The only ones who have cars are those who plan on hopping town or the kind of people who stop by because Derry’s a good place to lie low.

As Richie drives over, the car clunking and creaking in ways that should probably concern him, he considers, not for the first time, what it would be like to leave this shithole.

There’s not much for him here. Even Bev and Ben have been talking about taking off after college.

He shakes his head as the car releases another groan, drawing his mind back to the present.

“I gotta think of a name for you,” Richie muses, tapping the wheel absent-mindedly, “Maybe we’ll wait until you’ve been fixed up.”

When he reaches the shop, he thanks the deity up there that the car hadn’t fallen apart on him because it would’ve been super embarrassing to survive multiple gunshot wounds only to die at the hands of the automobile.

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” A brunette walks up to greet him, wiping whatever motor oil onto his shirt and offers his hand to Richie.

Fuck, he’s adorable.

Let it not be said that Richie Tozier has ever had a brain to mouth filter. It’s part of his charm.

“Richie Tozier’s my name and doing voices is my game.” He grasps Eddie’s hand tightly “How you doin’ Eddie spaghetti?”

Eddie frowns slightly, his nose crinkling, “Don’t call me that.”

Richie shrugs and stuffs his hands in his pockets, unashamed.

Eddie gestures to the car, “What do you need done? Other than…all of it.”

As if on cue, the car emits another forlorn sound.

“Hit the nail right on the head, Eds.” Richie grins, “Could you fix it up for me?”

“It’s a good model.” Eddie admits, reluctantly ignoring the nickname. “This could be kinda fun. Do you have anything in mind?”

“Nothing in particular. Say, could I get your number to contact you if I do think of anything?” Richie adds, winking at the mechanic.

Eddie’s cheeks flush and he nods almost uncertainly. It’s not exactly an unreasonable request anyway.

Oh heck, the mechanic is cutecutecute and Richie wonders if it’s too early to say he’s fallen in love.

“You look kinda young to be doing this,” Richie starts.

“Summer job.” Eddie anticipates, gesturing to vaguely to the shop, “I go to university in New York.”

“No wonder I’ve never seen you around… I know I’d remember a face like that!” Richie reaches over to pinch Eddie’s cheeks.

Eddie ducks and bats his hand away rolling his eyes, “Anything else you wanna say?”

Richie taps his chin thoughtfully and leans over to whisper conspiratorially, “I fucked your mom.”

He cackles as Eddie shoves him away, “Get out of here dumbass.”

He twists Richie back towards the dirt path with unnecessary force, mumbling under his breath and yet, Richie can’t find it in himself to take Eddie’s fury seriously.

“See ya later, Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie calls, obnoxiously loud, waving to Eddie as he walks away from the shop, ignoring the indignant “Don’t call me that!” that follows.

He knows he’ll be back soon.

Only to pick up the car. Obviously.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo first IT fic?? Honestly, writing this is hard because Richie Tozier is funny and i don't really have a sense of humour and cannot come up with funny stuff so let's pray this goes okay. I'm actually very nervous about posting this.
> 
> i drafted this in a series of bullet points for my friend's birthday way back in August so this concept of ghost rider Richie and mechanic Eddie is actually her idea but I'm having a lot of fun writing it. I've got the whole thing planned out it's just a matter of actually writing it. Hopefully this will be done by Christmas. 
> 
> I hope you liked it! Let me know your thoughts and stuff :) And talk to me on Tumblr I get lonely easily (@bitchinflash)
> 
> Who knows, maybe this will be the start to more IT fics


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